


Elves

by astr0cat



Category: WoW - Fandom, World of Warcraft
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-04
Updated: 2016-03-04
Packaged: 2018-05-24 15:59:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6158905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astr0cat/pseuds/astr0cat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Basically the whole story revolves around the inspiration from this song <a href="https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=o_7SrF4S3Dw">Nightsong</a></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The night elf slowly reached up to grasp onto a lily’s delicate petals, picking the flower off of the stem it had sprouted from. Delicately, she lifted it to her face to inspect it further, admiring its fragile beauty with curious eyes. The pale glow seemed to brighten as the smell of sweetness reached her lavender colored nose. With her other hand, she brushed a stray strand of teal hair behind her pointed ear.

Shrugging her shoulders as to adjust her gear, she kneeled down and set the small lily into the sparkling water, letting it drift out into the clear blue pool. The motion of its petals hitting the water sent ripples across the liquid. The gentle waves gradually faded before they reached the edge of the small body of water, though they did manage to send a dragonfly into flight.

The elven female looked up, gazing past the trees and into the stars of the night. The soft gentle light of the cabin behind her caused the water to beam with light. The mist that floated up from the moist air had a lovely shine to it as well.

A small smile appeared on her face as she brought her gaze back down to Azeroth.

Suddenly a shout was heard before a blast of fire was shot at the structure behind her.

The blast from behind her sent her tumbling forward into the water before her, drenching her clothes. A pillar from above timbered down towards her, hitting the ground and becoming a bridge, and a cage. 

The elf flicked her gaze back and forth, her breath had already left her from the surprise she had felt. With shaking hands, she pounded against the stone object attempting to push it off. Though it was a foolish idea, one does foolish things when in trouble.

Another ball of orange shot across the sky, blasting into the lodge once more causing something to barrel into the pillar, freeing the night elf. Quickly, she sat up from the water, gasping for breath before standing up.

Sentinels lined the entrance of the burning building, fighting off the enemy that had began this. Orcs brought their blades down upon the elven women in an attempt to smash in their skulls and although the elves fought bravely, the fire was growing. A few of the sentinels had already been engulfed in the angry red flames, some continuing to burn as they reached out for mercy.

Before the female was spotted, she sprinted into the cover of the forest. Salty tears dripped down the edge of her face, trailing down the marks that proved her an elf. It hurt to leave them behind...but they were already dead. There was to many green skinned _monsters_. Too much _fire._

A green hand yanked her back before her legs could carry her any further, the force dragging her back to the fiery hell. With all the strength she had, she kicked out. If she would be forced to linger here, outnumbered, she would fight for her pride…

for her people. 

The orc fell to the ground grasping his side as she took her bow into her hand, her fingertips brushing the elven carvings that lined its wooden surface. Grabbing an arrow out of her quiver, she quickly fired at the green skinned male before hopping over his corpse, her armor jingling in the night. 

Redeeming her pride, she darted out of the forest and back to the blackened building. Corpses lined the entrance to it, their blood shining a bright crimson in the dull moonlight. Without hesitation, she joined the remaining sentinels in the battle to retake their home.

An axe bit into the side of her cheek, tracing down it in a quick motion, drawing the coppery liquid from her face. With a swift motion, she let an arrow fly in the direction of the axe wielder.

Another flame fell from the sky, landing behind her and sending elves flying into the air. Only three of them remained now, only three to fight off the bloodthirsty demons.

Something kicked out at her causing her knees to buckle in pain as a grimace overtook her face. A hand reached out and grasped the bow, forcefully pulling it out of her hand. A snap was heard before a sickening sound came from below her. She didn’t feel at ease all of a sudden, something screaming in her mind that something had gone horribly wrong, more wrong than it already had.

With shaking hands, the young elf reached down to her waist, her hand brushing something sharp. A trickle of blood ran down her waist and onto her armor. A squelching sound from her abdomen, a tugging feeling soon following it.

Her tongue picked up the salty, bitter tang of blood. Red liquid bubbled up from the back of her throat, running down her chin. Already on her knees, a foot stomped down onto her head, forcing her face to the ground as her body began to shut down.

A blade ran down her back in a slow, torturous matter, tracing the outline of her shoulderblades. Rage began to build inside of her, fury taking over her mind. In an attempt to keep her scream silent, she clenched her teeth, biting her tongue. The energy she once had was beginning to leave her, keeping her scream stuck in her throat.

Scars now littered her small frame, marking her an object of war. As her senses began to fade, her elven ears picked up the sound of footsteps retreating and…

_the sound of ghouls._


	2. Chapter 2

An overwhelming peace filled her soul, filling her mind with a warm feeling as she was dragged into the dark bliss of death. Her senses, now dead, only felt the peaceful aura that swarmed around her body. Though she couldn’t even see her body nor feel it, she felt as if she were floating in a dark, endless void.

All until it ended when a blue mist yanked her out of her bliss. The aqua light traveled across her body, sealing the fresh wounds in an instant; turning her skin a sickly shade of lavender, a lighter shade than what it once was. 

When the elf cracked her eyes open, a bright glow began to seep from them. The mist formed in her new eyes, floating down to her cheeks before fading into the night air.

Her blood no longer flowed through her veins and her lungs did not rise and fall. Her breath had left her body, her blood had chilled to a stop.

The wind no longer caused a shiver to run up her spine, only blew her teal hair behind her. With a cold hand, she brushed a strand of tangled hair behind her sickly colored purple ear. The pain had not ceased though, it still continued. Though she no longer carried wounds, she now carried death.

Arthas, the Lich King, the Lord of the Frozen Throne, of Northrend, stood in front of her. His head held high as he grasped Frostmourne firmly in his hand.

A voice boomed inside her head, controlling her movements as if she were a puppet. As she arose from the cold ground, she stole a glance down at herself. Armor far different from what she had been previously wearing clothed her body while a sword lay beside her feet. Before she became this way, if she had still been herself and seen someone like this, she would have thought them hideous. She would have been devastated to see herself in this state. Now she could think of nothing, her thoughts were blank and her emotions were crushed.

Picking up the sword she glanced back up at the undead before her, accepting his orders and rushing off to follow the quest he had given her.

 

 

Soon enough she was being given more freedom, more tasks, more responsibilities. She was being chosen to deliver messages to important superiors, tasks to slay the greatest of foes, missions to invade the most guarded lands. The scourge had been putting an awful amount of faith in her to carry out these jobs, and she had done them perfectly and willingly, unaware of what she once was.

Unaware she was once a revered night elf hunter, now a crazed, bloodthirsty night elf death knight. 

She had long forgotten her past life, who she belonged to once, who she loved, where she lived, who she fought for. Now she was a mindless slave to the Lich King, following his orders and accepting his praise as a puppy does with a biscuit. It made her happy to know she was serving her King well, it also held her reputation high with her superiors. 

Although it had only been a month or so since she had been killed, resurrected, and transformed into an elf with a lust for blood, she had become quite adapted to this new “life”.

Her memories of her old one had been wiped clean from her mind so she knew nothing but serving the cold man, Arthas.

It was then that she was called to the said man’s side, a battle would be fought later that evening. It was rumored that even Tirion would appear along with the Crusade.

Her gear glimmered with blue sparks as she walked with long strides to the designated battle area. The sword in her palm dripped with a dark navy colored substance, poison. A smirk crawled onto her face as she glanced around, seeing the numerous undead before her, the army so vast that it stretched out as far as the eye could see.

With this many on their side they would surely take down all that opposed them, if anyone even dared to fight them that is.

A voice shouted from behind her and it was at that moment that everyone and everything began charging towards the chapel. The horse she had mounted was knocked and cut down causing her to fly off and into the battle. There were more humans here than she had anticipated but of course they were easy prey.

Slaughtering every single one of them down was proving to help the scourge in the battle…

up until the more powerful forces arrived.

The priests and their warriors had finally showed up along with Tirion. A night elf priestess to deal damage as well as restore the health of her comrades was one of the more agitating foes. There was also a talented warrior that continued to stun the undead forces over and over, again and again.

Drops of rain began to fall from the scarlet sky causing the land below her feet to soften and become slick with water. Her fighting stance faltered every now and again as she attempted to keep her balance. Suddenly a beam of light came crashing down on her, forcing her to her knees, vaporizing her already dead flesh off of her cold body. Before the light could damage anything to fatal, a scream was heard causing everything to stop. The battle paused as a young death knight began to speak, paused when Arthas absorbed his soul into Frostmourne. It was then that Tirion broke through and brought the Ashbringer down upon the Lich King.

In just a matter of moments, the King was gone and the death knights had regained their control. The young night elf’s memories washed over her, stunning her and causing her to forget the pain for a small moment.

Her family? Wait no. Her family was gone, she never had one. Her love? No. No one had ever cared enough. Where was her home again? Where did she come from?

Panic started to rise within her, her face becoming contorted with confusion.

What was she before all this? Was she someone important, was she even someone before this event? How did she die again?

She wanted to run away from these thoughts but they just kept crawling out of the back of her mind making it a jumbled mess. The elf would’ve gotten up, would’ve ran from here, but her body felt like lead which prevented her from fleeing.

The jumbled thoughts soon became clear though, it began making sense.

She was a hunter, she was serving Tyrande Whisperwind, for the Alliance. She was a night elf, she was one of Tyrande’s most respected, trusted, revered hunters. She lived in Darnassus, the priestess had sent her to an elven land far away from civilization. That village had been attacked and the hunter had died of an abdominal wound, bled out.

Why had she not had a family? Why had she not had a lover?

Because they had never been there and no one cared enough to be with her. Though she was exalted with all the Alliance kingdoms and many wanted to “be with her”. They wanted to be with her just for the sole purpose that she was important, that she was famous. 

Maybe she wanted to be alone though and that’s why she never gave anyone a chance.

A necromancer got her attention when he loomed over her, potions in his palm. No doubt that those magic bottles were to tend to her wounds.

One of her closest friends came over to her, Koltira, and stood next to her. The blood elf praised her bravery and effort causing a smile to form onto her lips. 

A gasp left her dull colored lips when the skeleton behind her began to stitch up some slices that she had received, the needle tracing along the scars from her death. After the needle had done its job, it was set aside and a lotion was poured onto her back, easing the pain slightly. Koltira eyed the old scars with squinted eyes, watching as the necromancer continued his work. The blood elf would never comprehend why orcs were the way they were, but in a way he could understand them. They were almost as bloodthirsty as himself, a lust for blood that was never quenched. When he was under the King’s control he wouldn’t have thought twice about invading a village, killing innocents. But now...something in him had awoken...something that delivered more mercy...something that made him _weak_. Of course he’d have to find a different method to satisfy his needs to kill, but he’d have to accept it. He was now an undead, a cold hearted _monster_ that craved the scent, the _taste_ of blood.

By the time he had snapped out of his thoughts, the skeleton that had been tending to the night elf’s wounds had disappeared. With a huff, Koltira reached out a sickly colored green hand, helping the elf up once she grasped it.

A grateful smile was cast his way but he quickly turned his head away, hearing his name from one of the undead’s. He would have to take charge over what remained of the scourge, he couldn’t let small things get in his way. 

The night elf behind him dropped her smile, blinking her aqua eyes before casting her gaze downwards. She was already beginning to regret being freed from Arthas’ control. Her emotions were already starting to unravel inside of her, making themselves known and causing her sadness, causing her loneliness. She knew this was a psychological thing that _living_ people acquired but she never thought that she would have these. Again. 

She also knew that once, and if, she regained memories that had been lost she would regain other, trivial things. Although she never thought that these foul human emotions would return so soon. The elf assumed it would have been much longer before she had to experience this again.


End file.
